"…what
are you talking about, you baka usa-gaki?"
He heard an exasperated sigh over the slightly static phone line.

"Never
mind, Kanda. Just come by HQ today at two o'clock. Two o'clock
sharp!" Rabi reminded him. There was a brief pause. "Come alone."
It was a command.

"Yes…
sir."

Kanda
really wasn't too thrilled stepping out of the cool house and into
the swelteringly hot outside world, excruciatingly hot, courtesy of
the irritatingly June sun. As glad as he was that he didn't have to
pitch his voice a notch higher, there were so many other things that
he'd rather do.

He changed
out of the thin, gossamer maid's uniform, pulling on a loose white
shirt and baggy black pants tied off a patterned belt. Hastily
brushing his hair and pulling it up painstakingly into a high
ponytail, he grabbed his katana, strapping it onto his back, and
stepped out the front door. He squinted against the brightness,
shielding his dark, blackish brown eyes. Rabi better had a good
reason for calling him on such an undesirable day.

He trudged
onto the steps of the tenement wearily, glaring at the door as he
knocked half heartedly. The door swung opened, revealing a sweaty
Rabi, whom was unable to stop grin. "It's good to see you Kanda."
He glanced out behind Kanda and nodded. "Come in."

Kanda
didn't even walk a full step forward when graffiti was thrown in
every direction, many of which settled to stick in his hair. "Happy
Birthday, Kanda!" Rabi squealed, jumping up and down like a child.
He gripped Kanda by the shoulders in excitement, his eyes bright and
delighted. "Guess what, Kanda?"

"…what?"Am I going to regret asking this?

"Gramps
will tell you!"

"So
let's go meet him already!" Kanda hissed impatiently. "I didn't
walk here in the stupid heat for 15 stupid minutes just to attend
some stupid party, even if it is mine."

"Kanda
is so unappreciative!"

"And
proud of it," he growled.

Nonetheless,
Rabi refused to budge, forcing Kanda to remain downstairs amidst the
rambunctious, lively music the sprung forth from the fiddlers'
violins and the harmonicas, and the pounding of feet and clapping.
Rabi laughed, pushing him onto the middle of the table as the
Japanese youth rolled his eyes, sighing, and drawing the bow across
the ehru – a gift that the redhead insisted one birthday of his
that he should most definitely play.

Kanda
preferred quieter, slower music, and it showed through the sweet,
subtle melody that danced in the room. "If you don't mind, I'm
going to steal the birthday boy away for the moment!" Rabi shouted,
pulling Kanda off the table by his collar, nearly choking him to
death in the process.

"Don't
call me that!" Kanda snarled. Rabi paid no attention, dragging him
up the stairs and into the lone room carved into the end of a long,
dark hallway, better known as the office the Bookman.

Kanda
slowed his lips, none too eager to see the old man, though
"Panda-chan", as
Rabi so affectionately called him, had treated him well over the
years. Before Rabi even knocked, a dry, raspy voice called out. "Come
in." The door creaked over, with Bookman's dark, squinty eyes
staring out on them as he calmly sat in a leather chair that seemed
too big for him, arms folded within his voluminous sleeves.

"Kanda,"
Panda said from the comfort of his giant chair, "you are now 18,
correct?"

"Yes,
Bookman," Kanda answered politely.

Bookman
nodded. "Since Rabi will soon be done with his training as the next
in line, I will entrust you to him, as while you are his closest
friend…" Rabi beamed, "you would not make rash decisions and
protect him accordingly. Come close, Kanda, and hold out your palm."
Doing as he was told, said Japanese boy shuffled over, staring at
Bookman in the eyes. "I now appoint you as his right hand man."
Something heavy was dropped into his hand, and he glanced down in
surprise – an elaborate, but antique wooden token, painted
brightly. "Take good care of it. It shows your station now."

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.